How do we measure value?

Several days ago getting out of the car to go in the house my hands and arms were full of books, lunch bag, PDA, water bottle, notes, mug and camera. This is not all that unusual as after an hour commute even having to make 2 trips back the 25 feet to the garage to bring things in seems like too much. Sometimes, though not often, something drops and I end up putting everything down on the other car to again get everything balanced and still have a couple of fingers available to open the door to the house. Hey, we all have are quirks. Balancing as many things as I can carry is one of mine.

On this one day it was my camera that slipped and crashed down hitting this two inch concrete strip at the base of the door. CRAP.

As I have written many times this camera is a cheap one, one of many bargains I have found along the way. It usually lives in my car or pocket and, as you’ve seen, I take pictures of whatever grabs me- even if it’s a view at 70mph (I never take my eyes off the road and just point the camera in the direction and click many times. The end product when I get home and upload (cheap cameras don’t have view screens) are sometimes interesting, great, blurred in some interesting way or just ready for the delete button. The pure joy of digital – no cost of processed film to feel guilty about deleting and starting over. But where was I going with this?

Quickly checking the camera out after dinner nothing rattled differently than before but no lights came on. It was dead! My initial reaction was sadness. This very basic thing had become an outlet for a new form of creativity, an opportunity to play with a different art form and be free of making mistakes. Plus I have to say that I like the challenges of having to work with such a basic camera and accompanying editing software that really only lets you crop the photo but not touch it up or manipulate it. My second reaction was to put it away until I had time to think about it and figure out how it worked while at the same time scanning e-bay for something similar.

For the next few days, picking it up and putting it down, I pulled the batteries out to understand more how it worked, which is extremely basic. The button pushes down and makes contact with the batteries and activates the shutter. That’s it. So playing with the switch and pulling out the batteries and recharging them (this thing eats up batteries which is why I bought a set of rechargeable ones) and the light when on. Adjusting the contacts on the inside, the shot counter lit up. YEAH!!

So it works again. The touch of the button is different (from me playing with the contacts and it will take some readjusting of me to get used to how long I hold the button down to wake the thing up and then to get the flash on and then to click a picture. But one the first pictures out of it is this one and it made me smile.

So what is the purpose of this entry other than to ramble? Easy!

My camera has become a creative extension to me even though it was cheap and is so very basic. That really doesn’t matter because when I play with the pictures and add words to them, it gives me happiness.

We all seem to juggle and pile on so many things in life that occasionally something very basic that we have come to rely on or enjoy falls off the pile and crashes. When it does it makes us almost as sad as if it was something more important or expensive. And then there is tenacity in not just giving up and tossing something aside because it was cheap and is basic.

Value is measured in so many different ways and some of the most valuable things to us cost the least.

Show up for life

Believe in all that is possible and be open to what seems impossible







Hold on tight - the ride is sometimes rough








Engage the spirit within and around










Life happens, be there - don't sit on the sidelines




These are themes I have been collecting to paint on flat rocks that I've picked up on our vacations on Cape Cod. The rocks are still in a bag and the thoughts collect in the PDA, so its time for movement and to get on with it. The only paint brush in my near future is for house paint.

What thoughts would you add?

What am I thankful for!

I am not always fully aware of the inspirations for this blog and I am still very much of a student of writing. A series of subtle observations and situations has created a spiritual conflict and is challenging something at the core and like dominoes brings into question many other things. For those who are aware of my writing, this isn’t a religious issue but much broader and it is through the skin and senses and soul.

In some areas of my life I am trained to be very thick skinned but when something I have thought has meaning or is beneficial to general good Karma is challenged as being meaningless the delicate house of cards begin to quake.

I thank folks for the generous comments, both here and by email. This is a recalibration of expectations and insights. When we do things that we hope better the world as we know it, either in specific deed or in healing and good thought, the most we can hope for is that we put it all out there and let the wind carry it. In doing so we sometimes make ourselves more vulnerable, but the risk of not doing something is greater than not.

We can never know if it all matters, but there is absolutely no doubt that making the effort and being conscious of the need to make the effort does matter.

* I am thankful for all the good that is out there.
* I am thankful for the bright sun that rose today and made the morning dew sparkle on the grass.
* I am thankful for the masses of genuinely good people out there
* I am thankful for the breeze that makes the leaves outside my window flutter and dance.
* I am thankful if my random thoughts hit a tone with someone, anyone -even if I don’t know it.
* I am thankful if my comments to others do make their day a little easier and lighter and perhaps they pass that lightness on to others.
* I am thankful for the cheerful and insightful comments of others as it makes my day lighter and pauses me to stop and be present.
* I am thankful for family whose love is unrestricted
* I am thankful for people around me who tolerate me singing and dancing and being a little looney at times but know that I also have a serious deep side as well.
* I am thankful for the people who have the jobs of doing things that I am glad I don't have to do
* I am thankful that I work for an organization that is truly thoughtful in its deeds and treatment of people and well as in its words
* I am thankful I work with people who are not just talented but genuine and just chuckle at me talking to myself and doing some off beat things
* I am thankful for the people at work and church and other settings who just smile at me being occasionally neurotic about recycling and just chuckle when I am half submerged in the trash digging out plastics.
* I am thankful for laughter
I am thankful for those who are conscious of and care for the environment
* I am thankful for the family of rabbits that dance around my yard
* I am thankful for those who challenge me intellectually yet keep me from becoming too serious.
* I am so thankful that I live in an area where I last night could see a professional Shakespeare production 5 minutes away and have a good laugh.
* I am thankful for all the people I have met volunteering here and there and for their energy, work, quiet devotion and spirit
* I am thankful for the beauty and peace of the area where I live
* I am thankful for the people who are attuned to the practice of healing prayer and thought and who will help me through this current rough patch.
* I am thankful for so much that I can't list
* I am thankful for life.
* For anyone who is reading this, I am thankful for you,

God can I have new piece of paper?

I feel like I have made a mess of this one and am feeling in so many ways that I would like to start over. With so many mistakes it sometimes feels like I am trapped in a maze, this paper is not as good as I wished it could be. There are times when I can see the direction and the choices are clear and the times when the options were vague and I felt like I was in a fog;

I find myself mourning for all the wrong turns that I have taken, the lost time, the missed clues, the opportunities that came and I was too afraid to jump on or too caught up in figuring out the maze that the opportunity came and when.

This paper has so many cross-outs and notes in the margins from so far back that some of them I can no longer read. I struggle to figure out what goes where and what order to do it in and at times I am so confused. I fear that if this test were to end you’d hand it back as incomplete and lacking focus and totally missing the point.

There are passages I would so much like to erase –where I have hurt others or been oblivious to their pain- but the eraser doesn’t seem to work. There are rips in the paper where I have been hurt and though I have tried to mend them with layers of tape, I still find myself getting caught on the jagged edges.

My paper is stained with so many tears and dirt and sweat from work and marks from the hands of messy children and pets, the folds are worn from years of folding and unfolding, considering and then not considering; stuffing things in my pocket and forgetting them for too long.


If I could have a clean piece of paper I wouldn’t make the same mistakes. I would know early on what I should be doing and what to forget. I would know what mistakes really don’t matter with time and what seemingly minor ones do. I would know clearly which paths I missed and where I took the wrong turns. I would know the opportunities that will not last and that I should fully appreciate before they are lost. I’d be much smarter and wiser with this new paper.


But the how would I capture the beauty and sense of purpose that I discovered when I was lost? Can I copy over those experiences from all the wandering around? I don't know how it would it fit together, the context would be gone. How would I find my wife, my soul mate that I discovered though many wrong turns? And yes I still want those finger marks and margin notes from my kids and everything else about them; and yes the stains from the pets I have loved, they can stay as well. The tears of joy and compassion shared with family and friends, I don’t want to loose them; the random opportunities and joy, how will I write them down? If I could keep the lessons learned from healing without the hurt - but how would I do that?

How would I piece it together, the good and the bad? Out of so many mistakes also came so much good, so much laughter, so much fun, so much wisdom. From those journeys down the unknown paths and times of great pain came family I might never have had and friends I might never have found. How do I start over and still keep all of these? Could I take away the hurt I caused others and keep all else that is on this paper that seems so intertwined? That would be enough.


If starting over means that I loose so much that I love and cherish and so much that has made me who I am, then I’ll keep the paper I have and keep plugging away. If I could wish away the bad and wish for more of the good, then of course that is what I would do. But it doesn’t seem like that is the assignment.

So God, thanks for listening. I’ll keep the paper I have; for I guess you have seen worse and maybe seen better. When the time is up and I have to turn it in I expect I will do OK for originality even if it wasn’t perfect.

The eye of the soul

The eye of the soul sees what is all around and not just what is in front of it, it sees down deep, sees what is constant and what is true. The eye of the soul is not distracted by awkwardness, or what is irrelevant. When its vision is clear the eye of the soul reveals the core of what is important and what is beautiful. It sees calm in the midst of chaos, it sees through the fog and sees what can be. For those who can truly see, the eye of the soul can not be blinded.

Feeling the Presence

Each morning when I leave the Berkshires for work, the highway does its usual ups and downs until it reaches a certain place where it just goes down and down for quite a while. The walls get higher and steep and block out the sun and are covered with massive waterfalls of ice and the temperature drops noticeably. On the other side of the road is a cliff plunging deeply to the river below. Yet it is in this somewhat foreboding spot I always feel a reassuring presence emanating…..Then shortly thereafter the walls part at a glorious gorge and the light floods in and I am on the flat lands.
I believe it is in deep valleys that you can feel this presence the most whether these valleys be those in nature or those we find ourselves in emotionally. The presence is there and we just need the stillness to let it settle in us.

Tilling the earth of the soul

This is a time of the year that I try to focus on being more mindful, meditative and contemplative. Forcing myself to slow down, I try to be especially observant of my surroundings and of all the very small pieces that make it up; regaining vision through the eye of a child.


Reflection is not always an easy process as it often digs up "old stuff" that is much easier and simpler for me to keep buried. But tilling the earth of the soul is good and exposing feelings and hurts that lie deep adds air and nutrients for new growth. I totally enjoy the stillness; of being part of the presence that is around me and the process is always restorative.


The change in seasons and the awakening that occurs brings encouragement that out of dormancy and death can come something new and the ability to change and adapt and grow never ends regardless of age.

Finding a voice

What does it take to find a voice? For some it is the inspiration of a talent, the ability to sing or speak extemporaneously or to excel at a sport. For others it may take being backed into a corner before they are willing to speak out or a life changing experience that hits at your core. For writers I expect that it is much the same way. Some are born with a talent that is nurtured and developed, some learn the technical aspects and work at it through practice and with some it may be inspirational bursts. In another group are those who learn to write for what they need to do: communicating facts, expressing ideas, persuading a position. The technical skills become refined but writing from the heart stays as something avoided.

I am someone for who writing has not come naturally and freely. Working on the technical aspects of refining and refining a draft for work or school my work has become tighter and I have become competent but the ability of doing writing that is creative has been a challenge and is elusive.

Often when I sit alone, whether it be paddling my kayak along a quiet river or in front of the fire in the early morning thoughts just pour out. Sometimes they follow in some order or sometimes come in random streams of consciousness. It is at those times that I wish there was a record button; for when I try to recall later to write it all down or when I start to take out the pad and write, many of the thoughts wisp away. The truth is that I am not sure I could possibly write them all down or even if there was a record button, could manage the torrent of thoughts afterwards. It seems at the time to be just a few thoughts but, when I think about it, the comparison is more like trying to count the droplets coming out of a water sprinkler.

Then there are those times when I can make my mind at peace or at least some semblance of peace and connect to that inner voice. The times when I am writing a message of support for someone else and it feels like I am the medium for the message. I am thinking and typing the words; sometimes go through a few versions or ponder over it through the night, but then I sit there and read it and think, I wrote that? And then there are times when the words just seem to come out. Expressing my thoughts in a way that just fits.

I am discovering that, if I go with those feelings and the urge to write at the moment then I discover something about me that I never knew before and that many others never knew either. I was never before a writer but at these times I think that perhaps I could be. Life is all about learning.

Rainbows

Last week while driving into work I noticed two mini rainbows. They were straight up and down, an arrow to the ground. As the highway went up and down and around the hills and in and out of valleys at least one of them was always in view, one in the east and one to the south.

Rainbows seem to be a symbol of hope, always attracting attention for their beauty and simplicity. These definitely caught my attention. A bright point in the day.